


Losing Hope

by Rikerbabe



Category: Arctic (2018)
Genre: Angst, Arctic, Determination, Gen, Regrets, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikerbabe/pseuds/Rikerbabe
Summary: Huxley Overgård is returning to his base camp after flying in supplies to a research facility in the Arctic when his plane goes down. He struggles to survive as he does everything he can to attract help to his downed aircraft. Will he make it back to base camp or die out in the Arctic?





	Losing Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the clip from Mads' new film "Arctic" which is being shown at the midnight showing at the Cannes Film Festival this month. This scene struck me and the story kinda popped into my head.
> 
> Comments, complaints, etc are welcomed....
> 
> There will be more stories as I can catch glimpses of any future clips released!

Huxley had tried everything he could think of to stabilize the plane but to no avail. The plane was going down and in one of the most remote places in the world. He was on his way back from making a run to a research facility when the problems struck. His engines had frozen over and there was no way to make it back to base camp and there was a major snowstorm brewing. He was going down and might just perish along with the plane. That was something that he wasn't prepared for and it wasn't something that he wanted to be remembered by. There had been several of his close associates that had died doing this very same job, and that worried his wife. She was reluctant to join the "Widow's Club" anytime soon and with good reason. Her own father had perished years ago working for a company that flew oil workers in and out of Alaska. 

With the instrumental panel pretty much dead, he hoped that the plane would be able to glide down, thereby softening the impact with the frozen ground and hopefully limit his injuries to something less critical. Out here, there was no way to tend to someone with critical injuries. He angled the nose down slightly and hoped for the best, but there was always the risk of that failing to prevent serious injuries from occurring. His thoughts went back to his wife, Elizabeth who was back in Alaska waiting on him to return. She had cried when he told her that he had to go, there was no one else available to do the six month tour at the camp. Huxley promised her that he would return and that would be the end of his arctic piloting jobs. He was nearing retirement age for his field anyway and soon would return to flying more non dangerous jobs.

The radio was dead, and he knew that help might not be possible. He glanced over to a small photo of Elizabeth that he glued to the panel and smiled softly. Her expression was one of love and hope in her beautiful blue eyes. He prayed that he would return to her and see that same expression once again. The ground was coming up fast and he angled the nose up further, hoping that there wasn't rocks or a small mountain that he would soon be crashing into. He shut off whatever was left on electronically and took the plane in manually. The cross winds caught the plane and he fought the controls for what seemed like hours as the ground loomed closer and closer. He finally pulled up even more on the control, and the plane landed hard, skidding across the icy ground and snow for about a mile or so before it finally came to a shuddering stop. The force hurled him forward, and he smacked his head against the panel then was thrown back against the seat.

The force of both the landing and the blow to his forehead knocked him out for a few moments, but it felt like hours before he came to. There was the smell of burning electrical wiring and also blood in the air as he groggily unbuckled his restraints and crawled out of the cabin. Leaning against the entrance to the rest of the plane, he shook his head and came to regret the movement almost immediately. Quickly checking himself, he only found a gash to be the most serious injury. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out his folded handkerchief and dabbed at the gash near his right eye. Glancing around the space, some of the windows had been cracked and the cold wind along with a fine dusting of snow was beginning to invade the cargo area. He moved slowly over to one of the windows and glanced out, not seeing much but feeling the air seeping in. There was some silicone sealant that was for sub zero temperatures and he used that to start sealing up some of the worst cracks in the few windows that had damage. 

Two hours later the worst of the impact damage had been fixed and he now concentrated on getting his bearings, along with checking out the damage to the radio. If he could get that working again, he might be able to reach someone close by. One of the things that had been loaded aboard was replacement foods for the facility but they only needed half of the items, so he was transporting back what was left. That would have to suffice until he was rescued and back at base camp. He prayed that the radio would be repairable and it would be enough to reach a passing place or even a helicopter. After checking the remaining cargo and finding nothing wrong, he turned his attention back to the radio in the cockpit.

An hour and a half later his worst fears had been realized. The radio was useless, damaged beyond all attempts at repair. Huxley slumped in his seat, running his tongue over his lips when his eyes came to rest on Elizabeth's picture. His eyes misted when he thought about her, waiting back at their home for him to return. She was heavily pregnant with their first child, and he had promised her that he would be there for the birth. Now, she would be told that he was lost and even possibly dead. Their child would grow up not knowing him as his or her father. She would have to raise the child alone, not really knowing what had happened to him. A burning desire now lit inside him, and he vowed to return to her no matter what it took.

He rose from the seat and went towards the back, his eyes lighting on whatever he could find. The snow could be dug up and the frozen ground exposed, so that if another plane went overhead, it would see the patch of ground and realized that it wasn't a natural formation. He found a shovel, and a few other things for his idea. Donning his parka, he ventured out not too far from the downed plane and started to dig the snow away from the frozen ground. It would take him weeks to make the **SOS** but he would make it and hope for the best.


End file.
